Gaara's Little Friend
by BattyBigSister
Summary: Gaara gets an unusual birthday gift. It's furry... and chews bars. Can he learn to love it? Basically I just felt like combining my two favourite obsessions: Gaara ... and hamsters.
1. Gaara

_In memory of Caractacus;_

_Simply the best pet I ever had._

_Also dedicated to Casimir, Scribonia, Hecuba and Pandora - one hamster and three degus - and very close runners up._

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* * *

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Gaara raised an eyebrow at the thing his brother had just unceremoniously dumped all over the paperwork on his desk. It sat there, in a shower of settling sawdust, innocuously indicating that whatever urgent village business he had currently been in the process of working on was simply going to have to wait until tomorrow.

The Kazekage glanced up, eyeing first his brother's folded arms and self-satisfied expression and then glancing towards his sister leaning against the wall of his office. She seemed perhaps a little more hesitant than her brother, but her arms were equally folded and her face equally set.

"What is that?" Gaara demanded, returning his gaze to the thing on his desk.

"Yours," Temari informed him coolly, kicking off the wall and coming to stand next to the elder brother.

This puzzled Gaara. As his eyes knitted into a frown, his chair if anything drew ever so slightly away from the desk. "I don't recall ever having owned one of these."

"No," Kankuro agreed, cat-ear clad head nodding encouragingly for a reason the youngest sibling couldn't quite fathom, "But you do now. Happy Birthday, little brother."

"This is our present to you," Temari explained, waving at it with a pathetically cheerful smile.

"I see." Gaara stared at it motionlessly for another few moments before adding, "What does it do?"

His older siblings glanced at each other, apparently slightly at a loss for an explanation. Kankuro just shrugged. "Eats and shits mostly… oh and runs on a wheel a lot too," he drawled, turning back to his brother, "The basic aim is to keep it alive long enough so it can die of old age."

Temari winced at this rather frank explanation, and knelt down closer to the birthday gift in what appeared to be an effort to elaborate. "Well, you see," she began, vaguely waving her fingers at the top of the object. Gaara obediently trained his eyes back on his gift. It consisted of a small rectangular plastic tray, in a particularly vibrant shade of putrid lime green, over which someone had seen fit to attach an equally putrid-looking dome of yellow bars. Somewhere inside, in a mess of what appeared to be woodshavings, fitted a small ceramic bowl filled with a strange concoction of nuts and seeds, a small plastic wheel (bright red) and a tiny plastic creation in what appeared to be the shape of a little house. "This is a cage," she explained.

Kankuro rolled his eyes at that comment, taking a step back, scratching his neck and glancing up at the ceiling with an expression that clearly indicated that he wished they had never started this whole business. Even Temari, flailing slightly under the pressure of her youngest brother's blank stare, looked like she was starting to agree.

Gaara sighed. "I can tell it's a cage," he quipped coldly, "But I don't see its purpose. It's too small for the containment of criminals and, even if it weren't, I believe our current detention cells are much better … and more appropriately, furnished. Alternatively for the transportation of livestock…"

"Yes," Temari interrupted, "But you see, _inside_ this cage lives... well…" She unhooked the clips that fastened the bars to their base and placed it carefully to one side. With a tentative finger she rustled some of the woodshavings in the plastic tray. Nothing unusual happened. She tried again and then, apparently exasperated, picked up the little plastic house and tossed it against the abandoned bar dome on the far side of the desk.

Revealed from beneath the plastic structure lay a large mound of what looked like cotton wool, except that cotton wool is rarely that bristly. It fell apart almost instantly and a small round pink nose emerged from its middle, followed by a tangerine coloured face with two jet-black eyes and pink oval shaped ears.

Gaara stared at it and then, expectantly, at his sister. "See," she concluded, waving her hand for pointless emphasis, "This is a hamster. He's your birthday present."

"Why?" Gaara demanded, frowning down again upon the little tangerine face. It had extracted itself from the mound of cotton and now revealed itself to be attached to a little oval furry body in mostly the same shade of tangerine, except for one large white band around its middle broken up again by little tangerine spots along the spine. It gazed up the perplexed face of its new owner for a few moments, before rocking back onto its haunches and cleaning its face. It was seated, Gaara noticed with another raised eyebrow, on the largest set of testicles compared to overall body mass he had ever seen. Not that it seemed perturbed that it might be squashing its own genitals; quite the reverse in fact. It seemed comfortable and quite unembarrassed. Gaara supposed it had to be. At that size they probably trailed along the ground after it as it walked. The kazekage winced at the thought.

"Isn't it some kind of vermin?" he added, brows knitted at he stared at his siblings, "I believe the council and I just passed new waste disposal legislation precisely to reduce…"

"It's a pet, Gaara," his sister cried, standing up and rubbing her temples in irritation, "You take care of it, clean it out regularly and play with it and share a bond with it. It appreciates you because you feed it and you feel happy because it's cute and fluffy. That's all there is to it. We thought you might like one, as you don't leave the village as much now you're Kazekage, you have the time and it'll keep you company."

"Also, " Kankuro interjected, leaning across his sister to catch Gaara's eye, "They don't live very long, so if this whole thing doesn't work out it's not like we'll be stuck with it for years before it kicks the bucket." His sister turned and shot him a look that suggested Kankuro's projected life expectancy may have just dropped below the hamster's.

"I see," Gaara replied slowly. Then as if he was mulling over the words, "You care for it and form a bond with it." His siblings stared at him, as with an enormous degree of deliberation he put down the pen, which he was still holding from when Kankuro so rudely interrupted his paperwork, and gradually stretched a single index finger out towards his new … pet.

The hamster took one look at the approaching digit and rolled on its back in fright. Gaara withdrew, surprised, and it scurried back under its mound of cotton wool. The Kazekage looked up towards his sister for explanation.

"They do that with everyone at first," she responded, running a hand through her hair a little hesitantly, "It takes some time and patience to get them to trust you."

"I see," Gaara repeated for the umpteenth time that day. He sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. "Just like the village."

"Ask Temari if you need anything," Kankuro added, taking a step back with a touch of relief in his voice now that the birthday present had apparently been accepted, "She used to have one when she was about seven, so she knows a bit about them. Do you remember that hamster?"

Gaara shook his head, apparently surprised.

"Oh," Kankuro shrugged, "It figures. You were pretty young at the time. I just thought you might as you actually squashed it flat with your sand in a fit of rage. It was pretty horrible. Temari-nee-chan cried for a week."

_Smack! _Kankuro lurched forward, catching himself against the edge of the desk as the back of Temari's fan connected violently into his skull. The shock sent the little hamster tray skidding over the wooden surface, but – to the surprise of practically everyone present – a protective wall of sand almost immediately steadied it.

"Seriously," Temari snapped, readjusting the fan in its holster on her back, as the elder brother righted himself. He glared hot bloody murder at her and he rubbed the new bump on his head. "What is the matter with you today?" Temari hissed, "It's our little brother's birthday. Why are you being so morbid?"

"What?" Kankuro shot back, "It's what hamsters do. They look cute; stuff their faces; run on wheels and then die really quickly. Isn't it like two years or something?" Gaara stared at them impassively, apparently unperturbed. Down in the tray below, the cotton wool rustled and a little tangerine face slowly started reemerge, but on the side of the wool _facing_ the tray wall. It stretched a paw upwards and clearly a break out attempt was imminent.

"Just go fetch some water," Temari sighed, pulling a thin plastic bottle (bright blue) out of her pouch and handing it to the puppet-master, as she herself bent down to reassemble the cage before the hamster escaped. Kankuro snorted and left her to it.

"We'll leave him with you for a bit," she told Gaara, as she fitted the little house back over the cotton wool, "We thought you might like to… get to know him. I'm cooking dinner tonight though and we've brought some cake, so if you make it home before at a half-way decent time tonight Kankuro and I were hoping to have a bit of a celebration."

Gaara lent forward in an attempt to help her fasten the metal bars. "Thank you," he said slowly.

"You're welcome," Temari replied, grinning, "See you at home."

"No. I mean," he caught himself quickly, straightening up quickly from the cage, "That as well, but thank you… for my gift."

"Oh," Temari paused, looking up, "You're welcome."


	2. Temari

Tentatively, Temari knocked on the door to her brother's room.

"Come in," came the monotone response.

The door opened to reveal a room she knew well. Every inch of the bare sandstone wall had been basted smooth and even the tiny round windows looked worse for wear. Less than four years ago, it had been completely bare. Gaara's destructive strength had destroyed whatever furniture it had once held almost as soon as it became his. There had been nothing, but an empty space and the occasional whirlpool of sand.

Now however her youngest brother had changed and so had the room. He had calmed and his room had been slowly refurnished to something fit for human habitation. It was still clinically Spartan, but the shattered wardrobe had been rebuilt and they had added a desk, a chair, a bedside table… even a bed, which Gaara was still getting used to now that Shukaku had vacated his body.

The Kazekage was sitting on that same bed, still wide-awake as Temari had known he would be. He would probably fall asleep at some point during the early hours of the morning and then be awake again long before dawn; a lifetime of insomnia is a difficult habit to shift.

He had not even bothered to change his clothes yet, still dressed in his blue and white robes from the day, and was reading a book in soft yellow half-light of the lamp on his desk. It was snapped shut on Temari's entry and her brother gazed at her with unwavering attention.

It was simple courtesy, she knew, but not in the glib routine fashion of an ordinary person. The Gaara of the past had been anything but courteous. He had never had the opportunity to learn most of the little rituals and customs society deemed to be polite. Instead this was calculated, deliberate, designed to put her at her ease. It was something he had picked up somewhere, from someone she couldn't guess. People who have come to visit you like to have your attention: it was a simple gesture in a sea of impassiveness; a way of reaching out to show affection he didn't really understand how to express. Its action was deliberate, but its intention sincere. Temari smiled.

"I'm going to sleep now," she told him, leaning on the door frame with one hand, "I just wanted to say good night."

"Good night," Gaara replied, nodding, "Sleep well."

"You too…" she paused, then taking another step forward her eyes narrowed on the book in his hand, "What's that?"

"This?" Gaara raised the book, showing her the cover. '_Hamsterlopaedia_ (1) ', Temari read, her eyes widening slightly. When had he bought that? On his way home from the office?

Gaara had been home, as promised, not long after dark. She had cooked what she was reasonably certain was his favourite meal, shouting at Kankuro as her remaining sibling pestered her about putting up decorations, and they had eaten it together – just the three of them – in the comfortable half-silence that was so common in this household. Afterwards there had been the cake, served with tea, and the elder brother had entertained them by performing tricks with balloons and some of his puppets that had Temari reaching for her fan and roaring about the dignity of a ninja. Gaara had just watched the whole scene impassively; apparently he was content merely observing his siblings' antics. They had sat together downstairs, talking – about politics mainly or the village, until quite late at night and then Gaara had retired upstairs to his room and Kankuro had disappeared somewhere into the bowls of some war puppet or other to fiddle with mechanics. Presumably he was still there. She was going to have to go and extract him in a minute or he would probably stay there all night.

"Oh? Is that for...?" she asked, rather superfluously, still eyeing the book.

"Yes," Gaara nodded, sitting up and waving his fingers in the direction of his desk. Sure enough, when Temari looked, there next to the usual small, organized piles of paperwork was the brightly coloured cage she and Kankuro had brought him earlier.

The hamster had been crouched low in the cage, listening to the strange sounds from the door and the noisy humans. Now however, it was apparently bored with that and darted forward, scurrying up to the bars of his cage. Hooking its thin pink paws around the bars, it climbed effortlessly upwards at an astonishing speed – its broad white tummy wiggling as it moved – and stopped dead as it hit the roof of the cage. It sniffed, twitching its little whiskered nose, as it inspected the annoying horizontal bars above it. Then, leaning backwards, it unclasped a single stumpy front leg from its grip on the bars and, flailing slightly, caught hold of the metal obstruction above. Another paw quickly joined it, and then suddenly the hamster was suspended upside down from the top of its cage. Fearlessly it carried itself out into the middle of the roof, apparently unperturbed by the wide-open space below it. The lid rattled noisily as it moved, but the little hamster seemed to be having a whale of a time exploring the world upside down.

Then, just as suddenly, disaster struck. One front paw slipped and lost its hold on the bar. The second almost immediately followed suit. Panicking the hamster was left dangling in mid-air, as even a back leg gave out and his whole weight hung from one hind-paw hooked precariously over a single metal bar. The little oblong mass of apricot and white swung helplessly, little legs waving, little whispers twitching in alarm, but then – just as it looked as it was all over and the hamster would fall – a soft cloud of fine sand materialized below it and carefully enveloped the tiny frame. Plucking it from its dangerous vantage, it carried the tiny rodent safely back down to the wood shavings below. Glancing at her brother's impassive face, Temari realized that he had done this so automatically that this must be rapidly becoming a regular thing; and, as if to confirm it, the newly rescued hamster – having cleaned it's face and adjusted its whispers – sprinted straight back to the bars for another climb.

"I'll need to get a new cage in the morning," Gaara informed her coolly, sitting up and dusting off his robes, "It seems a cage for a Syrian hamster should have at least 30 by 40 cm worth of floor space; or 40 cm by 60 according to some other sources. This one's too small."

"Oh," Temari looked at him in surprise, "Sure."

"The wheel too," he added, glancing thoughtfully at his new pet's habitat, "Apparently it should be solid with a closed back and sides, a spoked one such as this is likely to cause injury, and it would need to be bigger too. It should be big enough for him to run on it without having to curve his spine backwards." He stopped speaking and glancing at the book in his lap, picked it up and placed it neatly on his bedside table.

Temari nodded thoughtfully, leaning on the door frame again and folding her hands. "Okay," she agreed slowly, "If you like Kankuro and I could go pick one up in the…"

Gaara shook his head. "I'd quite like to pick them myself," he explained. His voice was calm, but looking closely Temari was almost sure that a small shimmer of a smile was playing across his lips.

* * *

1.) Shameless plug; I am well aware and I apologize. However Chris and Peter's _Hamsterlopeadia_, which they wrote along with their vet, is actually pretty much the equivalent of the bible when it comes to hamster care. They are so well renowned among hamster-keepers here in the U.K., and probably count as some of the foremost experts in the world. If you already have a hamster or are thinking of getting one then you really should invest in a copy of this book. Even if you think you already know all about hamsters, I still guarantee you will find it useful.

I hesitated a lot over adding in a real book over a made-up one, but I thought if this leads to even one hamster getting an improvement in care because their owner found out about this book, then it's worth annoying people with a useless interruption. Too many hamsters suffer because their owners are poorly informed. A huge sorry to all the non-hamster people; I hope you can forgive me!


	3. Kankuro

Kankuro stumbled towards the kitchen, yawning. Rubbing the remains of his usual purple war paint out of his eyes, he kicked open the door and threw his arms up, stretching, before reaching down and giving his bare stomach an almighty scratch for the sheer hell of it.

He leaned across towards the fridge… and then stopped, frozen in his tracks despite the usual desert heat. It wasn't that there was anything _wrong_ per say with the sight in front of him. It was just that it was highly unusual, to the point of bizarre.

"Good morning," he grunted, recovering slightly and examining the sight in front of him with a curious expression.

"Morning," Gaara was standing by the sink and the sink was full of hot soapy-looking water. It was quite a sight. Kankuro could count the number of times, in all his life, he had seen his younger brother voluntarily do the washing-up on about one hand. No, actually, he probably didn't need any hands. It had never happened.

Gaara hated water, more so than most cats. Presumably he did drink the stuff, or at least he had thus far failed to die of dehydration, and he washed regularly, although you probably couldn't soft-boil an egg in the total time it took him to finish in the bathroom, he probably even watered the plants in his office, but that was about where it ended. Constantly covered in a fine layer of sand, these days at least, water made Gaara feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. It weakened his defenses and made him unpleasantly sluggish and slow and well… wet, for ages, until the sand dried. The whole experience was horrible, his brother had assured him, and it certainly made him miserable.

There was nothing Kankuro dreaded more than the wretched, withdrawn, _sulky_ Gaara they put up with for hours after every fight with a water-using opponent or, for that matter, if it rained. No amount of chakra-sand based shielding could protect his younger brother from a half-decent rain shower. Nothing could be done except to pile on blankets and water-proofs and keep building the fire in the nearest shelter until he had finally dried out. Else you could have wet tendrils of soaking sand lashing at you for every third thing you said, in fits of touchiness otherwise uncharacteristic of the Kazekage, while Gaara sat there huddled in a pathetic surly-eyed sodden heap of gloom strangely reminiscent of his younger self. Thank pretty much anything you like that they lived in the desert. Gaara might just have been unbearable in a wetter climate.

He didn't exactly do much general cleaning either. It wasn't that Gaara refused to do anything, in fact if they had asked Kankuro was pretty sure that these days his brother would only be to happy to oblige. Gaara's room and office were always spotless, his plates reliably scraped clean before being stacked by the sink after a meal and he never left a room messier than he entered it, but somehow… they just never asked. The idea of the Kazekage, the powerful leader of one the five greatest shinobi nations, scrubbing dirty plates or dusting the furniture seemed somehow… sacrilegious. The fact that the youngest sibling, despite being only sixteen, had somehow developed a knack for walking around with an impressive sage-like air about him didn't help; neither did the fact that it was only a few years ago that he would have destroyed half the house at the mere mention of housework.

Nevertheless there he was, with rolled-up sleeves and a plastic apron covered in a fake green patchwork print and hideous pink flowers, elbow deep in a bowl of washing-up. "There were some plates left over from last night," Gaara explained, holding up a sponge, "I washed them after I had finished with the water bottles."

"Thanks," Kankuro nodded; then he paused, knitting his brows slightly, "Water bottles? Are we going somewhere?" All of Suna's shinobi routinely carried a supply of water with them when they left the village. It was the only good practice when living in the desert.

Gaara shook his head, setting the last plate out to drain as he wrung out the sponge and set it down by the sink. "Hamsters require a daily change of water in a clean bottle," he told him, pulling the plug and draining the sink. An oversized pair of bright pink rubber gloves covered his hands and he tugged off them with care, flexing his digits as he turned to face his brother. "Stagnant water can get old very quickly and bacteria start to build up in it, especially in the heat here."

"Oh," his older brother shrugged, nodding as he adjusted the weight on his feet to make himself more comfortable, "The hamster, right. That kinda water bottle. How is the little critter anyway?"

"He seems well," Gaara confided, sitting down at the table and stretching his hands so that they would be caught in the sunlight. Evidently they had gotten a little damp, despite the gloves. "He comes up to the cage bars when I approach now and seems to enjoy shredding tissues to use as bedding."

Kankuro frowned. "Didn't Temari and I get you a whole load of cotton-type bedding when we got the hamster?"

"Yes," Gaara nodded, still stretching his hands, "But that type can sometimes be hard for a hamster to digest if accidentally swallowed or can cause injury to small digits. Unscented tissue or toilet paper is better for him."

His brother sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. "Fair enough. I'm glad the little fella's happy." He finally turned to the fringe, tearing it open and reaching for the milk on the lower shelf of the door. Then his eyes fell on some of the rest of the contents.

There was a moment when it seemed as if Kankuro's face could not decide which expression it wanted to wear. In the end it gave up. He remained gaping blankly into the space before him, staying like that for quite a while, and then he blinked and shut his mouth. Closing the fridge, he took a step backwards; and ripped it open again as if he couldn't quite believe what he had seen.

Slowly recovering himself, Kankuro shook his head as if clearing it and vaulted backwards to the kitchen door. "_Tamari!_" he screamed, hanging out of the frame, "Why _the hell_ is there baby food in the fridge?"

"It's mine," came the impassive response behind him.

Kankuro turned and stared quizzically at his younger brother. The person in question had finished sunning his hands and was now flexing them awkwardly, apparently readjusting the sand over them.

"Yours?" Kankuro asked him, more than slightly nonplussed, "What do you need baby food for exactly?"

Gaara looked up, seemingly a little surprised at the question. "The hamster," he replied, as if this was obvious, "Baby food and porridge are excellent treats for young or elderly hamsters, providing you make sure to exclude spicy or acidic foods such as onions, tomatoes and garlic. It's good for their…"

"The hamster," Kankuro repeated, interrupting him in mid sentence. He nodded and rubbed a hand over his eyes, sighing loudly to himself, "Of course, I should have guessed."

Carefully Kankuro replaced the milk and shut the refrigerator door, stepping away from it slowly. "Well, see you later," he waved vaguely at him brother and left the room, deciding he could skip breakfast for today. Internally he wondered if the madness was catching…


	4. Baki

"And, in conclusion, I'd recommend that he be suspended from any future missions until he has grown up and learned the true meaning of being a shinobi," Baki drawled, glancing down at his clipboard from behind the white cloth that covered half his face.

"Is that really necessary?" Gaara sighed, sitting stiffly behind the desk. His arms were folded on the hard wooden surface and his eyes fixed, not on the other man, but on a row of young baby cacti just sprouting in three tiny pots lined up on his desk.

Baki raised an eyebrow, scrutinising the young Kazekage. "I certainly think so," he replied calmly, tapping the clipboard decisively as he straightened still further, "It may all seem like youthful high spirits now, but once out in action that kind of frivolity and lack of discipline could get him and his teammates killed. Best to nip it in the bud, before it gets out of hand."

"Alright," Gaara muttered, closing his eyes, "Have it your way. D-Rank for the entire team until he shows some maturity." He disentangled a hand and ran it through his mess of crimson hair, leaning back in the chair with the other arm sliding back so it landed squarely on the armrest. "And don't argue. That's my final decision."

Baki nodded, dropping the clipboard to his side. "Fair en…" he began and then paused, listening, "What's that sound?" Confused, he glanced around the room.

The dark rings around Gaara's eyes widened and he sat up. "What sound?" he inquired, listening intently.

"That…" Baki turned around and froze, momentarily arrested. He remembered a low cabinet in the corner of the Kazekage's office, near a large potted palm. He didn't remember the mess of multi-coloured interlocking tubes attached to a large metal frame sat squarely on top of it. _What was it anyway?_ The base structure dominated the entire surface area of the cabinet, easily a metre in length by about half that in width, but the interlocking plastic tubing carried on relentlessly, coiling through the metal frame and around the plant, even half-way up the wall. "What is that?" he demanded, turning to the Kazekage.

Gaara glanced across at the object of his former sensei's attention in surprise. "Oh that?" he pushed his chair backwards and stood up. His long Kage robes plummeted and swept against the floor as he moved around the desk. "My birthday present from my siblings," he explained, shrugging.

"Your… I … I see," Baki stepped closer to offending structure, peering inside it. It appeared to be lined with some kind of flaky grey substrate, resembling a sort of dried-out paper pulp. The substance was scattered liberally all over the interior, but had been pushed up in tiny mounds against the edges of the large dark-coloured plastic base. It appeared to be the displaced remains of what had been around a number of little tunnels, pots, bowls of sand and see-saws neatly arranged around both the base and two plastic upper levels, attached to the bars and accessible via a series of little wooden walkways. It was all strangely extravagant and something had clearly been enjoying re-decorating the place to its liking.

Said something exploded down from the roof of a large wooden house on the base level, barrelling a small cardboard tube in front of it. Baki took a step back in surprise, as a little furry apricot-coloured ball unwrapped itself and leaped upon the innocent cardboard, seizing the thin wall of one end in its tiny mouth. Furiously it shook the entire roll from side to side and then threw it violently back on the ground. The cardboard was nearly as big as the animal's own body, but it tossed it around with incredible ease, manipulating it with a practised grace as it viciously attacked one end of the tube again and then started feverishly scrambling at some tightly wedged paper that appeared to blocking the inside.

"Oh, don't mind him," Gaara explained, making Baki jump. He hadn't noticed the Kazekage as he moved up behind him. "I hid some dried chicken in there for him."

Baki stared at his superior and then back at the cage. "It can eat chicken?"

"Of course," Gaara shrugged, matter-of-factly, "They're omnivores. Eat pretty much the same as we do, providing you avoid strongly acidic or spicy additives."

Baki found himself nodding automatically. The muscles in his face didn't really seem to be responding to him either. "Really?" he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "What is it… again?"

Gaara turned, eying him with a highly nonplussed expression. "A hamster," he asserted with such an air of amazement that Baki actually felt a momentary pang of embarrassment about having asked the question.

"A hamster…" he repeated, rubbing his neck, "And it needs… all this… here?" He removed the hand and waved it vaguely over the length of the cage.

Gaara shrugged. "It helps," he explained, moving closer to the cabinet and kneeling slightly so he could watch as the hamster successfully disembowelled the cardboard roll and scattered some of the contents out onto its bedding, "They are very active animals. In the wild they can cover up to eight miles in a single night, in between resting during the coldest parts and sleeping during the day. They're desert animals, Syrian hamsters, like us. Although not the most brilliant adapted ones I've ever seen, they'll quickly overheat above thirty Celsius and can perish trying to hibernate in extreme cold…" He frowned, and the hamster glanced up at him, whiskers twitching and both cheek pouches so comically full that his little head resembled a deformed ace of spades.

"Yes, but…" Baki waved a hand over the cage again, "All these… tubes and things…"

Gaara nodded, straightening up. "He certainly seem to appreciate them," he half-smiled, tapping one of the multi-coloured tubes. Inside the main part of the cage the hamster jumped, startled. It dove headlong towards its nearest shelter, only to fall backwards in alarm when its head wouldn't fit through the entrance. "I had trouble sourcing parts of the right size and ventilation for it," the Kazekage continued, folding his arms and watching as his rodent scurried around the cage checking out every available opening, occasionally twice, until it found something large enough to fit though. It re-emerged from the inside of a plastic cactus, pouches empty and happily grooming its whiskers. "Many of those commercially sold for small pets are stuffy and hard to clean regularly, so they quickly start to smell. Not to mention the fact that the attached cages are almost always too small for a Syrian and larger hamsters have been known to get stuck in the tubing… These have a nice large diameter and regular little ventilation holes along the length of them. Much better."

Baki smiled weakly, scratching the back of his head. "Yes, but…" he began, and then paused, closing his eyes as he hurried through the rest of the question, "Is this really appropriate for the Kazekage's office?"

Gaara turned, staring at the man. The kanji marking on his forehead wrinkled as he considered the idea. "I don't see why not," he exclaimed, shrugging as he turned back to his desk, "He keeps me company… and besides, this is only his spare cage."

Baki watched, unobserving as the boy settled himself in his chair. "Spare… cage?" he repeated, mouthing the words as he tried to fit his tongue around them.

"Yes," Gaara glanced up, in the middle of reaching for a fresh stack of paperwork, "He has another similar one in my bedroom at home. This way I can take him with me and keep an eye on him. I enjoy the company."

"I… see…" Baki pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply.


	5. Oniwakamaru

Where Suna's council met had changed over the years, varying with the whims of each Kazekage. The Yondaime had preferred traditional settings, with low hung bamboo screens and tatami mats, the Godaime chose a more modern and straightforward environment, with everyone on an equal elevation facing each other around a circle of tables. It didn't matter much, because the basic dynamics barely ever changed; neither did most of the people; or the content of the meetings.

Today's agenda included, but was not limited to: border patrol on the north-eastern front; the results of this year's genin exams; the ensuing paperwork for the resulting new teams; the question of finance for maintenance work on the walls and some of the civic buildings and, last but not least, a new taxation system on waste disposal introduced by the daimyo. Absolutely riveting; Kankuro was nearly asleep.

He was interested in border patrols; he was interested in maintaining proper defences; he was vaguely interested in new genin teams and the best combinations for them. He could even stomach the idea of the public library needing a new coat of paint and an overhaul on its plumbing and electrics. He could not say that he gave two hoots about recyclable versus incineration rubbish and the problem of people disposing of recyclable waste with that destined for burning or vice versa; or that the little old ladies of Suna were already up in arms about the size of the fixed fine for doing so and were hardly likely to react well to the daimyo's fabulous new idea about charging for a more than fortnightly incineration collection in the first place. Maybe _if_ the little old ladies brought out their geriatric kunai and shuriken and stormed the Kage Building to hold the council hostage until it agreed to bring back free weekly garbage pick-up, then he would care.

Temari beside him was doing a much better job of staying awake, if only because she was usually the one left making sure that their own household waste went out on time. As opposed to rotting on the kitchen floor, which is were Kankuro seemed to think it belonged. She was rigid in her seat, slightly sideways with one arm slung over the backrest and the other hand resting on her crossed knees, attempting to ignore the cat-eared hood slumped on its arms just behind her back.

Sibling Number Three, of course, looked spectacularly riveted by the whole affair. His big blue eyes wide and alert as he listened to every word from his perch on his folded hands, propping him upright as his attention fixed on every speaker as they outlined their arguments and debated details. No detail eluded him, no minor point got lost in endless waffle. He was, after all, Gaara; and if the duties of the Kazekage involved being engrossed in the complaints of elderly ladies on tight pensions, who couldn't see well enough to distinguish a yogurt pot from mouldy bread, but could damn well smell effectively enough to be disturbed if their neighbours brought out their rubbish on the wrong day, then engrossed is what Gaara would damn well be. As far as Kankuro was concerned, the geriatrics of Suna owed their Kazekage a medal.

Suddenly Gaara darted upright. Kankuro raised his head in surprise, squinting at his brother through bleary eyes. The current speaker, outlining the issue of a recurrence vermin under the new proposals, stuttered to a halt and stared at him. Fidgeting helplessly in his seat, the Kazekage patted vaguely at his robes as he winced and grimaced, flickering through expressions at the rate of someone going through some kind of strange torture.

"Is everything alright, Kazekage-sama?" Baki asked, as the attentions of the room became almost painful. Temari nudged Kankuro, making the latter wince and rub his upper arm. She gaped helplessly at her youngest brother, as her mind raced trying to figure out what was going on.

"What?" Gaara glanced up distractedly, still performing some kind of strange ritual in his seat, "Oh, oh… yes. Carry on." Temari's concerned eyes suddenly widened and her hands froze. She stiffened in her seat, a strange precognition daunting her as she watched her brother. Kankuro glanced at her in alarm.

"Are you sure?" Baki repeated, eyeing him warily as someone coughed impatiently from around the table. Suna's elders were starting to stir.

"Yes, yes, it's nothing. Ah, there we go." Gaara plunged a hand down the wrong end of the opposite sleeve, seizing something as it tried to get away. Gingerly he lifted out what seemed to be a small apricot and white coloured ball in the middle of his palm. Promptly said ball sat up and started cleaning its whiskers, then gazed around the room with interest. It's little pink nose twitching furiously. "Sorry," the Kazekage sighed, running a finger over the tiny spine, "He went to sleep in my pocket and I didn't want to wake him. You were saying?" He sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed back on the supposed orator, and held the small creature to his chest as it carefully tested the empty air surrounding Gaara's hand, looking for a way to get down.

Temari groaned softly, collapsing back into her chair. Her fears were confirmed. The expression on the visible half of Baki's face could have sunk ships. Kankuro decided he would altogether rather look at his hands.

"I… err…" the man, who ought to have been informing them all about why a weekly refuse collection was necessary to limit the rat population, stuttered even more. He didn't seem to be able to stop staring at his leader. "What is that?"

"He's just my hamster," Gaara explained, shifting slightly as the tiny creature hooked its tiny claws into the fabric of his robe and clambered up to his shoulder. It sat there nibbling on his hair for a few moments, before attempting to climb up it. "Don't mind him." The hamster slipped on a strand and scrabbled against the Kage's neck, making Gaara wince slightly as he said the last words.

Without noticing it, Temari shrank almost under the table. Her cheeks were visibly red and she attempted to shield her eyes with one of her hands. Kankuro chose to stare at the carpet behind his seat, fiddling with the collar behind his neck as he tried to look like an only child.

"I… I see," the man muttered in an obvious lie. He was still staring wide-eyed at the village's supposed head, watching as said head had his cranium circumnavigated by hamster.

"Does he have a name?" someone asked with just a hint of a snicker.

Gaara glanced around in surprise. "Oniwakamaru _**(1)**_," he replied evenly, as the hamster started nibbling on his fringe just above the kanji symbol. "My sister named him." The girl in question went yet more rigid; colour rapidly draining from her face. Kankuro shifted his chair slightly away from her.

"Really…" Baki's features might just have cracked cement, they were so stiff. He coughed and began an earnest diatribe on why current pest control measures were probably sufficient. After a while, people even started to listen to him.

As the conversation slowly restarted and approached something resembling normality, Kankaro leaned across to his sister, nudging her slightly in the ribs. He positioned his face near her ear, whispering in a low undertone as he carefully made sure no one else could hear him, "I vote next year we just get him a new Kage hat." She nodded wordlessly.

* * *

_**(1)**_ Oniwakamaru is the childhood name (yômyô) of the famous Japanese warrior Benkei. I've seen its meaning given as 'dear young goblin', but basically 'oni' is like a demon, monster, goblin-type thing, 'waka' means the equivalent of 'young' and 'maru' is an ending for a male name, which originally meant 'dear' although the kanji has now changed a bit. I had a couple of readers insist that the hamster needed naming – and, although I did originally say they could pick, I found that while I was doing research for SWB and I just thought it was perfect.


End file.
